Page 43 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

Scrambling to her feet, she set off at a sprint toward him, pursued by the fox. Behind them, the spider made a mad, thankful dash to safety.

Hunter blinked down at the approaching child. This was new to him. What should he do? Step aside? Crouch down to greet her?

No time to think it through. Willow leaped up, flinging her arms around his middle, and squeezed. He staggered back half a step, blinking down in amazement at the little girl hanging from his waist.

“I’m so glad ye came down to play with us,” Willow breathed, tilting back her head to look at him. Her pointy chin dug into his stomach. “I called me fox River, by the way. He already kens what his name is. At least, I think it’s a he. Lady Helena said that River would suit a lad or a lass, and I think she is right.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Hunter managed, patting her awkwardly on the head.

He’d seen little children run toward their fathers and leap into their arms before. The fathers always laughed, swinging their children around with confident ease.

I feel anything but confident.

At last, Willow released him, dropping down onto her feet.

“I want to show ye River’s tricks,” she said firmly.

“Tricks? Already?” he laughed.

She nodded very seriously. “He’s nae very good at his tricks. But it is early days.”

Hunter stifled another laugh at hearing the little girl use such a world-weary term.

“Do ye ken what early days means?” he asked, grinning.

She considered. “It means the morning.”

“Ahh, I see.”

At that moment, Daphne approached them slowly. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, letting her get closer and closer.

“Sit. River, sit,” Willow commanded.

The fox blinked up at her.

She sighed. “All right, we’ll try another one. River, lie down.”

Again, the fox stared at her.

“River, play dead.”

The fox settled delicately onto his haunches.

She gave a crow of delight. “See! See! Did ye see that! I told him to sit, and he did.”

“Aye, very nice,” Hunter agreed. He wasn’t going to burst her bubble. “Foxes are very hard to train, ye ken. I wouldnae be too disappointed if it doesnae go as well as ye would hope.”

“I daenae mind.” Willow shrugged, settling down cross-legged on the ground.

At once, the fox padded over to her and curled up in her lap, its pointed little face staring adoringly up at her.

“She has a knack with animals,” Daphne remarked. Those were the first words she had spoken to him since he stepped out into the courtyard. “She doesnae get it from me. I hate to say it, but I’m terrified of spiders and insects. I doubt I could train a puppy if me life depended on it.”

“Well, training isnae a knack, nae really,” he responded. “It’s a skill.”

She nodded slowly, turning a long, thoughtful stare towards him.

“Why are ye here, Hunter?” she asked.